Original (inglés)

CHAPTER XXVII IN WHICH I AM SORE TEMPTED "Who the devil is this John Paul, and what is to become of him?" asked Comyn, as I escorted him downstairs to a chair. "You must give him two hundred pounds, or a thousand, if you like, and let him get out. He can't be coming to the clubs with you." And he pulled me into the coffee room after him. "You don't understand the man, Comyn," said I; "he isn't that kind, I tell you. What he has done for me is out of friendship, as he says, and h